


between the pages

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 10:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18547843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dear Sirius Black,It's me again. Remus Lupin.





	between the pages

It's just after eleven and Remus can't sleep. The quiet, steady breathing beside him annoys him more than usual.

It's pitch black, but his eyes adjust quickly.

He focuses on the woman beside him, her hair splayed over the pillow in soft tendrils; the height of her cheekbones, lit by stripes of moonlight shining through the blinds; the flutter of her lashes as she dreams; the twitch of her lips as she mutters words beneath her breath–quiet curses and spells.

He props his head upon his hand, just watching her lie there and sleep so peacefully. He wants to touch her, to feel the soft planes of her face.

She's gotten older, but so has he. He can see it in the wrinkles around their eyes and feel it in the creak of their bones. They're only getting older. They're never getting younger.

Remus closes his eyes and draws a breath.

Sleep is a mistress that he can't afford.

He climbs from bed, pressing through the crack of his joints and the sharp pain in his back. He snatches up his journal because in times like this, he writes.

The addressee was always the same.

 _Dear Sirius Black_ , is how it would start. As if they hadn't been friends. As if they had never lain beneath the trees in the dead of summer, Remus curling his fingers in Sirius's hair as he licked traces of butter beer from his tongue.

As if he were a stranger.

Tonight is no different. Remus sits upon his favorite chair and turns on the lamp beside it. The soft amber glow is just enough for him to write by.

_Dear Sirius Black,_

_It's me again. Remus Lupin._

No, that's not quite right.

_It's me, Moony._

Were they still friends? Could they even be friends?

He thinks of Lily and James and Harry–poor orphaned Harry. No. No, they're not friends.

The ache in his chest never subsides.

_I want you to know that I think of you all the time. I think of your eyes–_

Remus scrubs a hand down his face. Was he confessing his love? Somewhere in the folds of his mind, he knows there are still remnants of that.

_No, that's not true. I think of you, Sirius. I think of your hair as it fell between my fingers, I think of your secret little smile that you saved just for me. I think of your fingers between mine and the way you would whisper my name just before coming._

_Merlin, I remember even the way your lips felt against mine. I miss you. Fuck I can't even begin to explain how hard it is to go on without you. How could you do this to me? To us?_

_I loved you then and I love you now._

Remus pauses and drops his pen. He stares at the scars marring his knuckles. At the years of pain and suffering that befell him.

It was all because of Sirius.

 _I hate you._ He penned.

 _I hope they kill you._ No.

_I hope you never come back._

Remus waits. There, in his chair, with his robe wrapped around his frail shoulders, he waits.

It takes longer than usual. But it comes.

_Remus._

_Moony._

_Moons._

_I know you don't believe me._

Remus growls.

_I didn't do it. I would never hurt them._

Remus blinks back the tears that sting his eyes, threatening to spill over.

_I love you. I always have and I always will and I'll prove this to you. I'm innocent, Moons._

Remus can't hide the wracking sob. It starts as a sputter, when he can no longer hold back the tears. They spill down his cheeks, over a fresh wound, and down over his lips.

_I will come back. I will help you remember what it was like to be held._

_To be loved._

Remus swallows the whine in his throat. He can't wake her, she would be devastated to know what it is that he does when he can't sleep.

_I love you. I love you. Fuck, I love you._

_Help me._

Remus closes the journal. He hides the delicate penmanship between the frayed pages.

It's been years.

Sirius has been dead for a very long time.

The ghosts of Remus's wrongdoings still haunt him.

If only Remus had believed him.


End file.
